The Other Vampire
by Tazzmoodley
Summary: Keep a low profile. Hunt only when you have to. Avoid other vampires. Simple enough rules, rules that Sophie Carter has revolved her immortal life around. So when it turns out that her new (good looking) neighbor, Jerry Dandridge, is a vampire like her Sophie resolves to avoid him like the plague, positive he'll bring her nothing but trouble. Jerry, however, has other ideas...
1. Foreword

So for the past few months this story has been running around my head and I've finally decided to put it to paper. I've always been a fan of Fright Night and I just love how animalistic and ruthless they made Jerry in the remake. The fact that he's played by Colin Farrell also doesn't hurt ;)

To all my followers of "Mrs Richard B Riddick" the story is not on hiatus! Instead I will be updating between these two stories. Hopefully this way, even if one story is lagging in a chapter update my readers will still have something new to read in the other story. Hopefully, that is.

Now on a more serious note, this story is between two violent vampires. There will be violence. And there will be sex. This story, as it progresses further into its plot, will have a lot of sex between two consenting adults. While I will not be writing these sex scenes in graphic detail I will be putting enough detail to give this story a Mature rating.

**You have been warned. **

With that in mind...

I hope you enjoy this story and thanks for taking the time to read it!


	2. Prologue

Fun fact number one: I don't enjoy blood for its taste.

Don't get me wrong-I like the taste of blood. Hell, I'm not going to deny it, I find it absolutely delicious. After all, it is kind of hard to dislike the taste of blood when it happens to be your only form of sustenance…or at least the only form of sustenance that your body is actually capable of using. I mean, I can still have food-like chicken. I can still eat chicken. I can still taste chicken-

…

…wait….

No…actually I can't…at least, not unless it's covered in something either really really spicy or really really sour. Like chili powder. Or peppers. Really hot peppers. Tongue burning peppers. Like ghost peppers-

The point is, I can still stomach down chicken-I can still eat it. It just won't give me all the essential life sustaining ingredients that blood can. In order words, if I don't drink blood, well, I'll die.

Not that I'm complaining. After all, like I've said before, I find it quite agreeable on my taste buds.

But no, despite its mouthwatering, thirst satisfying, flavour, I don't actually enjoy drinking blood because it's delicious. I mean, it certainly makes living off it easier but that's not the reason why I enjoy filling my mouth with gallons of it.

It's the warmth.

You know, that warm feeling-the heat that's radiated from blood as it spurts from living bodies? That's what I enjoy most about drinking it.

Blood gives me back the warmth that my body is incapable of producing. That I've been incapable of producing for the past two and a half centuries.

Though I suppose that should be expected considering that I am…well…you know…

A vampire.


	3. Chapter 1

I hate hunting.

I absolutely, positively, hate hunting humans.

No, I don't hate hunting humans because I care for them or because I feel pity for them. I mean, yes, once upon a time I did feel unease towards hunting the creatures that I once classified myself as but now…well, now I don't give a damn. After all, I still need to eat. I need to live-I want to live. Hell I deserve to live-regardless of how many priests and religious fanatics who may claim otherwise, it is my right to live. I mean, do you blame a wolf for hunting other animals? Do you look down upon him for feasting on rabbits-for feasting on baby deer? No, you instead accept it and say that it's the wolf's nature; that it's Mother Nature, the circle of life, survival of the fittest-you know, philosophy like bullshit that makes you accept the fact that the wolf needs to eat other animals in order to live. Well guess what? I'm the wolf, humans are the rabbits and baby deer, and, whether you like it or not, my survival depends very much on me ripping their throats out and drinking their blood.

So no, I don't feel any sort of…guilt (Emotion?) towards the fact that humans need to die in order for me to live, that's not the reason why I hate hunting humans.

No, the reason why I hate hunting humans is because…well, it's because it's boring.

The loud clacking of my stilettos drummed throughout the air, my steps loud against the roughen pavement, as I walked into the alley. Behind me, I could hear the vibrancy of the city, my sensitive hearing amplifying the nightlife clamor that infected both the streets and buildings. The sounds of cars, of neon lights, of fast paced music-of humans laughing, crying, screaming, talking, cheering…I could hear it all, a cacophony that was signature to the urban environment I traversed through- a violently chaotic array of sounds that tore at my ears, filling my head with banging and thrashing screeches that rattled my brain with other worldly vengeance.

Noise; even though I had been present to witness both its creation and evolution, I still could not get used to how loud this century-this version of the human race-was.

With this orchestra came the potent aroma of a hundred different scents-cigarettes, polluted air, booze, sweat-the odor of humans-fragrances that burned my nose and forced my brain into overdrive as it identified each and every scent-

I shook my head, trying to ignore the plethora of stimuli and to instead focus on my task-on the distinct scent-the fragrance of sweat, booze, and male-the sounds of deep breathing, swearing, and uneven steps-that I could detect deep within the alley.

A man was in this alley with me, further up in front. For the past hour and a half, traveling throughout the city's many streets, I had been hunting him, stalking him, waiting for an opportunity to bring him down without suspicion. It was a task I had endeavored myself into doing from the moment I had first noticed his presence at the bar that I had been frequenting earlier-from the moment I realized that he aptly fitted the description of what I looked for in prey.

That is, he was an unkempt, inhibited, male who clearly had no one who would be wondering about his whereabouts.

You see, unlike most vampires (that is, vampires who don't care for humans), I'm not stupid about how I hunt humans. Just because I associate humans with rabbits and baby deer and other helpless critters, it doesn't necessarily mean I think they're entirely helpless. I mean, I know how dangerous humans are…well, at least, I know how dangerous humans are in numbers. Humans have a lot of numbers. Worse, they know exactly how to use their numbers should they be sufficiently motivated enough to do so.

A single human? No problem.

Two humans? Not a bother.

Three? Four? Even five humans? Pssh-Piece of cake.

But a hundred humans? Fuck no, cheque please.

See, if there is one thing a vampire should never, ever, do-UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE-its underestimate humans. Not unless you want to die early.

Which I don't. Want to die early, that is.

To hunt humans, you need to establish rules. Important rules to keep your bloodthirsty nature from being discovered. Smart rules to keep you safe yet at the same time fed.

Rules that turns hunting into more of a chore-a hassle, really-than something to get excited over about.

Like never going after humans who are not alone.

Or that I should avoid humans who look cared for.

Or who have rejected me more than three times.

Or that I should ignore humans who aren't male.

…

…Okay, actually, that rule is a bit more of a general preference than an actual safety check. But, still, because of these rules I generally end up feasting on homeless men. Or drug addicts. Or worse, criminals-like rapists, serial killers, thugs-you know, lowlife scum who enjoy taking advantage of the weak and helpless (Oh, by the way, the blood of drug addicts? Not very pleasant on the tongue, considering that three quarters of the time its normally fouled from malnutrition and drug abuse. Seriously, if you're a vampire and you don't care about getting caught, avoid drug users. They taste awful-truly they do. And their smell? Trust me when I say it's a combination best left to one's imagination).

So yeah, hunting humans? Not really all that satisfying.

I mean, hunting should make you feel proud, like you've achieved something worthwhile. It should be an experience that you can rejoice in. Not an experience that leaves you feeling more depressed than elated. Sure I could be a bit more careless in how I choose my victims, more daring perhaps in order to give me the thrill that I've been desperately missing for the past couple of decades…

…then again, my two hundred plus years of survival is thanks to my extreme caution…boring hunts and all…

Hell, the last time I had any fun hunting humans was around…the Prohibition era I think? When being a gangster was more of a glorified thing? Yeah, that was last time I can remember having fun while hunting.

Tonight's not any different. That is, the hunt tonight isn't any less boring. Actually, it's monotonously easy, considering that I didn't need to do much aside from following the guy once he got thrown out of the bar. Hell, I didn't even really need to get all dolled up-the smear of lipstick, the styled up hair, the tight stripper dress-it was all unnecessary. I could have gone walking into that bar wearing nothing more than an oversized shirt and a pair of sweatpants and I still could have gotten my prey.

Of course, that being said, such lazy attire might have drawn some attention to me-attention (considering all the rules I had put in place to ensure my rather long bout of survival) that I really didn't need…

A loud clatter of metal banging against the ground suddenly rang throughout the air, the sound so violent and unexpected I couldn't help but wince in startled discomfort. Surprised, I quickly moved towards the direction of the noise, slightly apprehensive as to what I would find. My apprehension however quickly turned into irritation when, upon walking further into the alley, I instead found the man I had been hunting sprawled out on the ground near some trash cans, stumbling about as he tried, quite unsuccessfully thanks to his inebriated state, to stand up.

Embarrassment, pity, shame-those were the only things I could feel as I watched the man before me struggle like a newborn-weak, helpless and oblivious to the world around him. Embarrassment, because I had actually wasted an hour and a half of my life chasing after this man. Pity, because the man clearly didn't stand a chance against me. Shame, because this is what I had been reduced to hunting, what I had chosen to hunt for the sake of not being noticed-a fact which only became even more shameful when considering that I used to hunt Aboriginal warriors…

Suddenly unable to watch the drunk man a second longer, and wanting (needing) to put him out of his misery, I walked over to the man and grabbed him by the hair, my superhuman strength (one of the perks of being a vampire) allowing me to easily lift him into the air.

Now within close proximity, I became hyperaware of the man's heartbeat, speeding up erratically at my unexpected presence and action. The sound was absolutely mesmerizing, hypnotic even, stirring the beast within me. Suddenly I noticed the man's smell-the delicious smell of blood pooling beneath his skin, flowing through his veins, being pumped throughout his body…

The man started struggling, his drunken mind suddenly realizing that something wasn't right. Without thinking, I moved my free hand to his throat and squeezed hard, choking him, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction as he clawed at my hand. Of course he wasn't a match for me, his body too dulled by booze to hurt me-Hell, even if he wasn't drunk out of his mind he still wouldn't have been much of a match, my vampire abilities easily overpowering his mere, human, self.

Fangs started to grow as I took him more of his scent, the enticing aroma causing me to draw the man-my prey closer to me so that I was nuzzling his neck, running my tongue down the length of his throat. At the action, I heard his breath hitch, his fear finally kicking in…

Fear. I could smell his fear.

It was absolutely intoxicating.

A snarl ripped from my chest, instinct kicking in as my nails grew into claws and my face distorted into something more animalistic-into something more demonic. Suddenly, I was angry. His weakness, his feebleness-the fact that he was human, infuriating me. Red filled my vision as my aggression grew, my thirst-Oh God my thirst!-consuming me as I couldn't think of anything but the rhythmic pulse of his heart-the warmth of his skin-the blood, the blood-in his body-

Hunger, thirst, my burning throat-I brought the man closer to me, yanking his head to the side, before sinking my now enlarged fangs into the side of his neck.

As soon as the blood hit my tongue-as soon as the warmth filled my mouth-I felt my aggression, my frustration, soothed as I feasted on the man with a satisfied groan, gorging myself on the liquid that spilled from his now stilling body. Warm, warm, liquid-delicious, delicious, liquid flowed down my throat as I greedily swallowed the man's blood, tempering the burn I felt into an tolerable itch as I began to brokenly moan in pleasure...

I could feel the man trying to scream, trying to fight back, but it was a wasted effort. My grip-my need for his blood-it was too strong. Soon he was reduced to a few sounds of pained discomfort, the noises too weak to be heard by the oblivious world around us. He was helpless, unable to beg for mercy, to even cry, as I drained him dry-as I sucked at his neck like an overgrown mosquito…

I gave the man's neck a few swipes from my tongue as I finally finished feeding, feeling his pulse finally stop as I lapped at the few trickles of blood that had run onto his throat. Once I was satisfied that the body in my hand had no more blood to give, I unceremoniously dropped the corpse onto the ground, no longer needing the body now that my thirst had been sated. Bringing my arm to my face, I proceeded to clean myself up, not needing to look to know that my face was covered in blood as I used both my tongue and hands to wipe off the remnants of my meal.

It while I was licking off the last traces of blood from my fingers that I noticed a newspaper on the ground, slightly crumpled but otherwise still readable. Normally I would have ignored it-unconcerned by the problems humans got themselves into-if it hadn't been for the big bold headline that glared out at me:

SAVAGE KILLER LOOSE WITHIN LAS VEGAS-THREE VICTIMS CLAIMED IN LESS THAN A WEEK.

I paused in my grooming, feeling a frown dot my face as I read the words. I didn't know why but for some reason the headline left me with a sense of unease, a wary feeling that made absolutely no sense. After all, it wasn't as if the story was about me (this was the first time I had hunted this month!) yet for some reason…it was almost as if…

Apprehensively I picked up the newspaper and began reading the story, feeling my frown deepen when I realized that the victims the paper was talking about-three young women, all beautiful, all in their twenties-had been found dead with their throats ripped out and their bodies drained of blood. With each word that my eyes took in, I felt my anxiety grow more and more as a knot of worry started to fill my stomach as I realized that their deaths, speculated by the newspaper to be the works of a madman, were eerily similar to body that now lay at my feet-

But, if the deaths were actually similar…wouldn't that mean that there was another-

Fuck, of course not. No other vampire would be crazy enough to try and live in Nevada-after all, the only reason I moved here was to get away from other vampires, because I knew no vampire would bother taking the risk of living in the desert. I mean, it was the only reason why I still bothered staying in this glorified pisshole of a city…

Feeling more than just a little unsettled, I let the paper leave my hand and watched as it slowly floated to the ground, just near the man's corpse. For a few seconds I just stared at the paper, my mouth curved down, my eyes narrowed in thought as I lingered over the headline…

I shook my head, trying to dispel my worrisome thoughts. No, of course there were no other vampires. If there was, I would have already known about it. After all, as far as other vampires were concerned, these were my hunting grounds and the last thing a vampire wanted to do was encroach on another's territory. If there was another vampire (which there wasn't) they would have made their presence known to me, either to try to form a coven with me (which I really didn't want) or to challenge me for my territory (which I really fucking didn't need).

Yes, I was just being silly-I was over thinking things. There was no other vampire. The headline-the killings? It was probably just the work of some deranged human psychopath, one obsessed with Bram Stoker or Stephanie Meyers…

Satisfied with my explanation, I redirected my attention back towards the dead body by my feet; the man's bloodied, lifeless form reminded me that he needed to be hidden. Giving the alley a quick scan, I noticed a pile of garbage bags that someone had left outside. Without my thought, I grabbed them and began to stack each one on top of the corpse till finally the body was completely hidden from view. With any luck, the police wouldn't find the body until the next day, perhaps even after a few days if I was really lucky…

Once I was positive the body was completely hidden, and after giving myself a quick once over for any last traces of blood, I turned around and walked out of the alley. The blinding lights that greeted me however, as I stepped back onto the streets, stopped me as I found my eyes narrowed in discomfort as they tried to adjust back to a "human level."

Honestly, for the life of me, I couldn't understand why humans needed so many fucking lights.

Muttering an oath against this city (City of fucking Sin!), I started to walk down the street, heading back towards my car which was parked just a few blocks away from the bar, where I had first encountered the man now hidden in the alley.

It was a bit of a long walk, around an hour or so at human pace. I could have lessened that time, used my superhuman speed to dash across the city in under ten minutes. I didn't do that though. Instead, I decided to "play human", opting to walk to my vehicle so that I could sharpen my "moving through a city without the noise and lights frying my sensitive senses" skills.

Basically, I wanted to re-sensitize my ears and eyes to the city.

The problem with this plan, aside from the obvious stuff (like how frigging bright the hotel signs were), it involved me walking through a city full of humans-many whom were currently out on the streets with me, looking for their next fun quick fix. I mean, don't get me wrong-I could tolerate humans (though barely). It was just that, the humans in Las Vegas-specifically the humans at night-were always so…well, they made me uncomfortable-I felt uncomfortable walking with them and past them. Not because I could smell all the emotions coming off them, not because I hear their heart-their pulses-thudding at varying different paces, not even because they were often looking at me-many with lust (males, thanks to my animal magnetism and looks, often found me very attractive) ,others with envy (usually from the females who belonged to the males), curiosity (from those either too young, naïve, or gullible to understand) and fear (from those who were wise enough to sense I wasn't "one of them").

No, the reason I felt discomfort walking aside humans, why I went out of my way to avoid them unless necessary…

It was because they reminded me of what I had lost.

They reminded me of what I had lost and they reminded me of what I could have had. They reminded me of what I could never have again. Not now, not tomorrow, not even in the near distant future…the humans, they reminded me that, once upon a time, when the idea of walking in the sun hadn't made me cringe in fear, I had had a life very different from my current form. A life very similar to the species I hunted yet which was now nothing more than a faint memory-one that, though also filled with pain and suppression, had been filled with joy and laughter and love…

No, I really didn't like being near humans.

I finally reached my car-a blue, ugly little thing that didn't do the environment any favours. It had been a "gift" from a man in a few towns over, a loud obnoxious redneck that couldn't keep his mouth shut for more than ten seconds. He hadn't tasted very good-actually, he had tasted awful, his system so full of alcohol and drugs that I couldn't even taste his blood without feeling like I had swallowed a bottle of pills and then mixed it with some cheap liquor.

Wrinkling my nose a bit at the memory, I opened the car door and plopped myself into the vehicle. Not bothering to put on my seatbelt (because, clearly, dying from a car crash was a big concern for me) I checked my mirror, not wanting to deal with the hassle that would come from running a human over. Not unexpected, I was unsurprised to find that the mirror was devoid of a caramel coloured woman-one with African features, wide brown eyes, big broad nose, full plump lips, brown curly hair, her bosom big, her hips wide…

No, I had no reflection. I haven't had a reflection in over two hundred years, a phenomenon that had started the moment I had turned into a vampire…along with other things like being allergic to garlic, being unable to go to Sunday mass without suffering harm, being unable to walk into the sun without busting into flames…

I started the car and put it into drive; turning the ignition on, I drove out of the parking and then headed out into the desert, my foot pressed tight against the petal as I sped back to the suburbs that I currently resided in.

Twenty minutes later I was driving through a human settlement-a suburb-of boring identical beige houses, cul-de-sacs, and white picket fences that had been organized into an even duller, if not predictable, neighborhood. For the past three years (the longest that I had ever stayed in one place since my change) I had been calling this area my "home," having obtained (I had persuaded (hypnotized) the real estate agent into giving me the house for free) and settled into one of the suburb houses. It was a tolerable enough place I suppose, certainly better than some of the holes I had been living in before even if its residents were a lot more…social than I wanted them to be. Though I guess their friendliness towards each other (or at least desire to get to know each other) was expected considering that this was the suburbs and they really only had each other to rely on should anything happen…

Well, at least most of them stopped trying to be my friend (though it had taken a lot of glaring to get my point across) and thank God (hah! A vampire thanking God!) that I was no longer receiving invites to neighborhood parties.

Seriously, just what didn't humans understand about the word no? No meant no and "Fuck off, I've got better things to do" didn't mean they could come back later and try again…

No, I wasn't very friendly to my neighbors. I never have been and I wasn't planning on starting any time soon. Sure, my antisocial behavior had probably made me the most hated and avoided person in the whole neighborhood (especially among the little bastards that my neighbors called their children, the little shits) but at least I was left alone. Besides, why the hell do I want to be making friends with humans for anyways? I mean, I'll probably just end up killing them eventually…

I finally arrived at my house and, opening my garage, I drove up my drive way and parked my car inside. Turning the ignition off, I got out and stretched, feeling the tension from the previous hour (driving always made me feel restless and bored) ebb away as I worked my muscles. Scratching my head, I walked out into my driveway, breathing in the cool night air of the desert, enjoying how clean it felt against my skin.

That was another thing I hated about the city; its air was too polluted for my tastes.

Unbothered by the darkness, I observed the houses in front of me, my neighbors (being human) all tucked away in their beds sleeping soundly, completely unaware of the danger that lived right across from them…not that I would purposely hunt them, of course. I mean, I could (hell, I probably should, considering that nearly every single human in this neighborhood had given me an invitation, therefore the permission I needed to enter their homes without any problem) but I had a very strict rule about not eating where you slept, feeling that it was a) disrespectful and b) a sure fire way of attracting unwanted attention…

Slowly, as my eyes passed over each of my neighbors' houses, the names of the humans listed through my head. Sally Barker, an overworked accountant who worked in the city, married to Danny Barker, a lawyer who spent more time with men than his own wife; Angela Green, neighborhood gossip, a housewife married to Joe Green, a sullen pharmacist, both of them parents to the Spawn from Hell (a pair of bratty brothers who made it their mission to terrorize the neighborhood); Jane Brewster, a single hardworking mother, a real estate agent with a seventeen year old son by the name of Charlie Brewster, a nice kid, polite enough even if he was friends with a pair of Potheads-

My gaze stopped at the house to the right (their left) of the Brewsters, the list in my head coming to stop as I observed the beige building with a bit more focus than I had done with the previous houses.

Originally the house had belonged to the Perrys-a nice elderly couple who had moved a few months ago to be closer to their daughter (apparently she was dying…or was she having a kid?). For a while it had been empty, just another of the many abandoned houses that were slowly becoming a common occurrence in the suburban area. Then, about a week ago, a moving truck had arrived and with it an assortment of boxes, a few pieces of furniture, and of course a new neighbor-a man, according to the interested neighborhood females. Actually, most of the neighborhood was abuzz over him, as he had yet to show his face or reveal anything about himself-like what he did, where he was from, whether or not he was single…though it did look like he was a construction worker working nights on the strip (his windows were painted black-like mine, though, of course, his reasons for having blackened windows most likely were because of sleep while mine had to do with not bursting into flames). Hell, he probably was a construction worker, what with the dumpster that he had on his front lawn filled with concrete-ooh, that wasn't going to impress Jane. The woman was absolutely anal about people keeping their houses neat. Something about house values falling or some bullshit along those lines…

Whatever. As long as I didn't have to meet the newest human, he could spray paint the swastika on his garage door if he wanted.

Looking up, I noticed that daybreak was approaching; a smile crept over my face as I noted that the night sky was growing lighter as sunrise drew near, filling the sky with shades of purple, grey, blue, pale yellow. I loved this time-this and twilight. It was the closest I could get to the sun without fear of suffering bodily harm, the closest that I could get back to my h-

…

…to feeling alive...

Shaking my head, I decided that it probably time for me to turn in for the night…day. Scratching my head, I made my way to my front door and as I turned the handle I gave the new neighbor's house another glance. It was odd, I suppose, that the newest resident hadn't shown his face yet especially since humans had this ridiculous penchant of introducing themselves to one another-almost like they needed to let their fellow members know that they were alive and well or something. Of course, maybe I was reading too deeply into it. I mean, if he really was a construction worker, he was too busy working and sleeping to even bother for introductions...

I snorted, suddenly irritated; since when did I give a crap about humans? So what if the new human was reclusive? That just meant one less annoyance to deal with.

Besides, I reasoned as I stepped into my house and shut the door behind, he would try to introduce himself to me eventually. Of course he would, it was expected that he would.

I mean, he was only human, after all.


End file.
